


Dysania

by GrimLegate



Series: Requiems For Tomorrow [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Estinien Holds the WoL Hostage, Lazy Mornings, M/M, New Relationship, Purring, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 23:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrimLegate/pseuds/GrimLegate
Summary: (n.) the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.





	Dysania

Bed-bound mornings, where the soft light of dawn has already made its way across the floor, stretching across the cobbles, are few and far between. More oft, the room is devoid of any life, by the time the sun has risen to grace the Ishgardian people with the small amount of warmth that it could offer on such clear days. The covers are cold, and the bed is immaculate, not the tangle of covers wrapped around lover’s legs that it was now.

The Warrior shuffled in the other near-vice grip, listening to the grumble that comes from the other’s chest. _He_ knew that the day would wait for no one, that there were things that needed to be done, and people that needed help, but his bedmate had decided against such early morning rituals as running around in the cold.

“_Estinien_,” The miqo’te hissed, his tail lashing under the covers as he once more tried to shift the arm that had wrapped itself firmly around his midriff. The other did not bother to grace him with a verbal response, simply tightening the hold that he had on the other, making it clear that he did not see fit to let him go any time soon. Aymeric had alluded to such laziness, when he had first found out about their tentative relationship, but the other had written it off as a joke.

“You’re a _nightmare_.” He groaned, and he could feel the elezen’s smile from where he had pressed his face into the Warrior’s neck. He had half a mind to kick the man, but as the thought passed through his head, the limbs that had been tangled together some time in the night tightened as well, and the man had to relent that he was completely caged.

He flopped with a sigh back onto the mattress, the silence hanging heavily over the two of them until the man spoke up. “Can I at least turn to face you?” It was such a quiet request, one that he was just the tiniest bit embarrassed about, and the limbs released their hold by a tiny bit, tense and ready to snatch ahold of the other if he attempted to run.

But he didn’t, simply flopping down to gaze at the other. The mess of long, silver hair glowed in the light shining through the window above the bed. One stormy eye had peaked open to watch him, the amused smile he had earlier returning as the Warrior once more became settled in his arms. Their legs tangled once more, and the miqo’te pressed himself into the warmth that the other offered. A soft sigh brushed passed his lips, and Estinien quirked a brow as he felt the feather-light kisses that had been pressed against his jaw.

It wasn’t teasing, necessarily, but the elezen knew that the other was fully well aware that he wouldn’t be left alone until he had given him a true kiss. Rhitaas had made it a ritual, whenever the two parted ways for a time, one that the dragoon had originally thought as rather childish – now he couldn’t seem to go about his day without it. He remembers vividly the day that Aymeric had teased him endlessly as he skulked around the de Borel manor, when the Warrior had left in a hurry, barely getting out a ‘goodbye’ before he rushed out the door.

It was strange to feel a sort of protectiveness over another, especially in these moments, when both of them were at their most vulnerable. Without their armor and lances alike, there was nothing to hide behind. It was hard at first, to become settled with the idea of another getting close to him. He remembers snapping harshly at Rhitaas, the first time that his wandering hands had seen fit to brush against him. There was a vulnerability in being known, and he hadn’t been sure if it was something that he wanted to have in his life.

He does not dare think of what he would do should something happen to the other.

But, Aymeric, ever the good friend, pointed out that if he was to be with anyone, that he knew the strength of the Warrior. He had tested his arm in battle and had seen the strength first hand that the other brought to every fight. If there was one thing that he could be sure about, is that he need not worry too much about the state the other would be in, when he walked back through those doors.

He flinched, shaken from his thoughts as the other brushed their foreheads together, and Rhitaas’ pupils were wide with content, as the beginning of a purr rumbled its way through his chest. He noticed when the other drifted off, and it was even easier when the other could not hide away behind the confines of his helm. The pale hand reached up, gently threading its way through the long silver locks, nestling his fingers through and gently stroking the other’s head. Estinien sighed, finally opening up both of his eyes to look at the man before him.

“And you say that I am a menace – and yet you are only making me wish to stay in bed longer with you.” It was Rhitaas’ turn to chuckle, brushing his lips against the elezen’s for the briefest of moments, before cuddling up to him.

“You are the one who trapped me here, in this den of comfort. Might I not enjoy it, before I must venture out into the bitter cold, without you to keep me warm?” Estinien snorted at the smooth-talking nature of the other, who looked up at him with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes, while the man just shook his head.

“Maybe if you gave up on this adventuring nonsense you may have me to keep you warm regardless.” He jested, to which the other untangled his arm to tap against his chin, as though in deep thought.

“That _is_ a truly tempting offer… To spend the rest of my days, holed up in a small cabin, with naught but the wind and my favorite dragoon by my side.”

“I’m your _only_ dragoon.”

“My minion counts too, you know.”

“I should _hope_ I am better than a wind-up toy.” He groused, shuffling up onto his elbow, and glancing at the miqo’te with an almost predatory look. Rhitaas took his opportunity to shuffle up, stretching slightly as he went back to that thoughtful look, only serving to tease Estinien more. The dragoon grumbled, and the bed creaked was the only warning that the other received before the man had lunged to pin the other to the bed, giving him a sly smirk.

“I do not believe that your little _minion_ is capable of such a feat, nor pleasing you in any manner that I could not do better.” Rhitaas could already feel the heat pooling in his face, a blush stretching across while he looked up at the other. He couldn’t help but grin back, reaching his arms up to loop around the other’s neck.

“I do believe that I may need a refresher, to validate such a claim.”

Needless to say, the sun had long since risen by the time that Aymeric had caught a glimpse of the two, with the sidling gait that Estinien held, and the good mood that the two shared, that it had seemed to be a good morning for the fledgling pair.

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out some of my other works if you enjoyed this one, and check out my Twitter and Tumblr! Handle: GrimLegate


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